


Halos Ecstasy

by passerbynightmare



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angels, Death, Depression, Drug Dealing, Drug Use, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Implied/Referenced Suicide, M/M, Religion, Suicide
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-14
Updated: 2017-09-14
Packaged: 2018-12-29 21:12:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,989
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12093522
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/passerbynightmare/pseuds/passerbynightmare
Summary: The question isn't whether god is real, but rather whether he loves or cares about you at all.It has been 5 years since Kuro died, 5 whole years of pure disappointment. Neither god nor heaven itself seemed to be able to make him happy . After realizing that the man decided to leave paradise to try and find whatever it is that he has been missing for so long, where he gets to know Allen , a strangely sympathetic drug dealer , whose rather unusual lifestyle is quickly able to catch the others interest...





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! This will be my first english fanfic, I hope that I'll be able to improve my english skills by writing this.  
> I also hope that you will enjoy reading this story as much as I'll enjoy writing it :)

_Death doesn't hurt you for long._

_At first you might feel a sharp pain inside of you making you feel as if you were torn apart by some almighty force trying to punish you for every single wrong deed you have done in your seemingly so short life._

_For example that one time that you pushed that one weird kid that has always been sniffing his armpits in school into a stinging-nettle bush, or that time when you took the last piece of cake without asking._

_Your soul will be violently ripped from your body as you take a last glance at the clump of flesh that once was your body, alive, breathing. While this all might seem like the nastiest, ugliest experience a human could possibly live through, you will quickly realize that to be wrong._

_The more painfull thing you will soon realize to be is that everything goes on , and that it seemingly has no visible end._

 

* * *

 

 

Jumping is the only way out.

  
It's not only a thought that seemed awfully familiar to him, but it's also what he heard from multiple other people.

Oh no, he didn't question anyone about it, after all asking about it is a great taboo here. It's just that when the days are long people like to gossip a lot, even if that meant facing punishment for their unruly words. It was an accident that he found out about it, really.

He thought about this for quite some time now, and it was today that he decided to actually try it. What was the worst that could happen? Die?

A small smirk escaped his lips . Of course not, don't be silly. The jumping part wasn't scary , no. Where he would land was scarier. What if he landed in an ocean? Would he be able to come back? Would he even want to go back? Probably not.

Sighing could be heard as the small raven haired man sat down at what seemed to be the edge of the universe, letting his legs fall over the white grounds border . The only thing you could see from here when you looked down was a mix of millions of shades. It was mainly blue ,green and yellow making it seem like he was staring into a gigantic painting made by van gogh himself. The view was the thing that he liked most about this place, but not even this could hold him back from leaving.

"Let's do this then.." he was whispering to himself as he was trying to clear his mind of any last doubts while getting ready to jump, slowly counting down from 10 .

10...9...8...

It was now that his fingers started stiffening of the adrenaline that was rushing into all parts of his body.

7...6...5

Maybe he shouldn't do it tough... should he? The risk of not being able to come back was becoming a bigger and bigger problem in his mind with every second.

Paranoia.

Would he really not miss it at all? 

4...

He hesitated when he said this number for a few seconds as the worry in his heart grew more and more making it jump up and down.

This was stupid, wasn't it?

Just as he reached number 3, a small shove pushed him over the edge . The shove was so soft and fait that it could have been just his imagination playing him a little joke , but it didn't make any difference now who or what made him fall. The only thing that mattered now was that he was indeed falling. Like a little feather he was now being carried thousands of miles down by the cold wind, gradually nearing him to the ground, except that if he really had been a feather , he would slowly weaver its way to the ground , while he was dropping down at the speed of 100 pounds of pure marble falling . Rushing down nearer and nearer towards the ground was an indescribable feeling, a feeling as if all your burdens and weights were taken from you as you enjoyed complete freedom of soul.

The deeper he fell, the less he regretted it , until all his doubts had finally vanished as he realized that this was the decision that would most likely bring him what he was looking for. Closing his eyes, enjoying the fresh autumn air he didn't realize that the ground was only mere meters below him as he...

A dull sound rang out when the mans narrow body fell to the ground.  
Then, silence.

Of course, normally this would break all your bones in every single part of your body making most of your body not even be of use for most organ donations. Even if you had survived this , you'd most likely not be able to walk this earth's soil ever again .

Yet the man stood up, not showing any sign of discomfort , wiping off the dirt of the soil he landed upon mere seconds ago.

Big skyskrapers were covering up the clouds while the colour of the sky had turned into a weird milky greyish sort of tone. It seemed as if the pale man fell right into a bed of petunias, but judging by the shade of the now trampled flowers he was doubting that they had looked much better previously anyways. Having now cleared his conscience, the small man quickly jumped over the dirty fence, whichs colour was barelly definable as most of the white paint had already mostly peeled off, finding himself in the middle of a main street .

Realizing what city he was in, he sighed visibly annoyed as he took in a deep breath of the smoke ridden city air.

"I'm back , Chicago"


	2. Chapter 2

To be honest Kuro wasn't sure what it was that he was looking for, just that there was something. His body has been itching him for quite some time now always giving him a feeling of incompleteness , it was literally pulling him down onto earth, trying to tell him that he was missing out . But what it was ? No clue. Even a dead person was still plagued by naiive thoughts and hopes.

What a bummer.

He was sick of constantly being up there. Constantly glaring into the other angels careless faces made him feel nauseaus.

Why were they allowed to forget? Why were they blessed with ignorance? Why wasn't he?

He didn't want to play gods meat puppet, or play around in the gardens of whothefuckknowswhat with other feathered assholes.

  
5 years up there and he was still not used to the feeling of being dead. Was it the routine he was missing? The authentic anger and pessimism of other people he so oftenly saw on the subway every day? Maybe it was a bit of everything. 

  
And now he was here, back on earth, not a single sign of not being alive, looking for something and nothing at the same time, enjoying just being able to exist here at this moment, no matter how much he actually detested this city.

It felt good to feel real. Thinking about it, this was like a completly new start for him, a no name with no face. One of millions of faces walking in the city.

Right now he was marching through streets he had known for years ,while the streets didn't know him at all. Not everyone had the privilege of living a new life, starting from zero , erasing all unpleasant mistakes and experiences from ones life.

He wouldn't really say he missed this city itself to be honest.   
Seattle would have been good ,or maybe even a completly different country like germany or china or whatever. But in the end it wouldn't have made that big of a difference anyways. It's not like he couldn't leave this place later on . What was important now, was that he was able to properly and freely think down here.

Sometimes , up there, you feel like your toughts and opinions are getting tampered with, censored even. The smallest bit of pessimism or anger is followed by your mind immediatly laying fully blank. The first time it happens you think that you just forgot what it was that you were  thinking about. The second, third , fourth time too, but after not being able to stop yourself from smiling widely for weeks, you gradually subconciously start to understand.

God was manipulating humans into loving him , and not many people are able to see through that. It might sound surreal at first, but after bringing back to mind all the hardship everyone has to suffer through, you can see that everyones relationship is in fact an abusive one, with love only coming from one side where it immediatly gets sucked up by the bottomless pit of gods need for love and praise, where it disappears and is to be never seen again.

After finding some crumbled up 5 Dollar bill, he decided to get himself some coffee. Any coffee would do, really , since coffee was yet another thing that they didn't have" up there ". After finally finding a cafe that seemed worthy of his small budget, he got himself a cappuchino and sat down on a rundown couchlike seat in the coffee shop that looked as if it was almost as expensive as his 5 dollar drink was.

Lost in his thoughts the dainty man was starring into his cup, thinking, and ocassionally taking a sip out of it . Drinking this coffee was ...weird.

Not the taste itself, but the sensation of tasting, the first time consuming something since dying , as food wasn't essential anymore in that state.  It felt as if the coffee was much stronger, as if it tasted like countless other dishes , feelings and even colours which all filled your mouth at the same time making it almost impossible to fully comprehend that this indeed was just a lame old cup of cheap coffee. Not only was the taste unusual, but the caffeine shooting into his heart almost immediatly aswell.

It was only when he heard some shady guys arguing that he finally looked up from out of his seemingly magic coffee cup. One was tall and rather slim, while the other was tiny and chubby, the exact opposite. After some whispering and compromise making, they decided to take it outside and left the shop.

It seemed as if the caffeine had woken the cats curiosity,  insomuch as that he couldn't stop thinking about those two men, which was pretty unusual for Kuro as he wasn't exactly what one would call nosy.

He decided to leave his half drunken coffee on the table and quietly followed the men until they turned into one of the side streets. Of course any sane person would have made a big circle around a place like that, neither would anyone fully sane follow two strangers in chicago who were obviously doing something illegal, or not fully legal at least.

But what should he fear? Getting shot? Sure getting shot in the dick would hurt a shitton, but thats really all that'd happen.

Other than that, for some reason he really wanted to see who those people exactly were, he wanted to catch a glimpse of their faces. He decide to hide behind an overfilled trash container, carefully listening to the both mens' conversation .

Both were obvious junkies, and judging by that it was easy to see that they were dealing. Nothing unusual in this city, really, but it was something about the dealing man that was fascinating to him, he just couldn't put his finger on what it was exactly. The man was quite young, 21 one or 22 maybe, but looked like he was still in his teenage skaterpunk phase. His eyes were a dark brown shade surrounded with red swollen circles , his skin was a tanned caramel-like colour.

Kuro couldn't quite make out what it was the both men were dealing as he was too focused on the tanned ones , for some reason, trembling hands. As the both agreed on a price and finally exchanged the goods, they both started doing some weird secret handshake-like thing . It was when the client spinned around at the end, that he noticed Kuro behind the trash can, and immediatly fled, unlike the other man.

He wasn't trying to run or anything, he didn't want to.

The tanned guy quickly pushed him against the container , grabbing the tinier man by his neck , followed by him pulling out a swiss pocket knife out of his pocket. "The fuck did you see?" was the only thing that came sputtering out of his mouth.

It was strange . Eventough he was threatening someone way smaller and punier than him, he was barelly even holding him by his neck. Not just that, but the hand he was holding the knife in trembled even harder than it has been before , it was a surprise that the knife hadn't fallen out of his hand yet.

Kuro was too distracted to listen and answer to the obviously stupid question the man that was now fully drenched in his own sweat had posed. He was busy mustering the man from face to face . His teeth were stunningly white for someone with drug experiences, his sweaty hair had a deep and warm auburn, and two piercings were decorating his sharp chin. "Fucking answer!" The man now tried raising the voice at Kuro , as an attempt to intimidate him. "Oh come on, i've witnessed dozens of drug deals before. It's not like its something thats unusual around here. Now put your mommys birthday present down before you accidentally either stab , or piss yourself. "

The other man was unsure on what he should answer. "How can i be sure you won't send the cops after me?" , the man hissed, with an audibly nervous undertone. "What do you expect me to tell them ? That some schmock in a hoodie sold a bum some dope in some side street?" A small giggle was heard coming from the asian man now.

"No no, of course i get that you would be scared of some stranger snitching on you...A bit of distrust is only healthy , after all. I guess the only way to make completly sure that the other won't talk, is to make sure they won't be able to say any word ever again...right?" Just as he finished talking, the dark haired man quickly grabbed the other by the wrist of the hand he was holding his beloved knife in, pulling it closer to his neck , carving across its top layer to which the other quickly responded by jumping back in shock ,shoving his now slightly bloodied knife in his pocket "Fuck, are you crazy? There is no way you actually cut yourself right now.." he was completly freaked out and confused at this point, trying to comprehend what kind of freak it was that was standing in front of him right now.

The shorter man calmly responded with casual smirking and joking "I thought you wanted to silence me? Are you too much of a pussy to actually fulfill your threats?" He knew that that druggie wouldn't have hurt him himself, not while he was almost pissing himself out of his own fear. After finally calming down from the horror of someone almost killing himself in front of him, he finally started talking clearly again "Fuck dude, you're intense.." while saying that, the man couldn't stop himself from mustering the fresh, blood quivering wound the other had mercilessly brought upon himself just minutes ago . If he had pressed just a little more then...the man shivered thinking about it. Sitting in jail for drugbuisness is something completly different than getting convicted for murder "What the fuck are you even doing here? You don't look like the kind of person to buy drugs, or just casually hanging out in ghettos.." it was almost amusing how the man seemingly forgot that he was threatening to stab the other with an actual knife just minutes ago . Now that he finally engaged in an actual conversation with the Japanese man, he couldn't let him go just yet. Kuro needed to learn more about this person, and what made him so special that he was able to actually catch his interest. This is never going to work but...

"I didn't want to bother your buisness, really...I've been looking for a place to stay actually."

While thinking up a heartwarming story , Kuro gulped and looked to the side in staged embarassement.

"i was kicked out actually...and i've been wandering around town searching for somewhere to stay." he was trying to look to the ground to make his story seem more sad and believable, which probably wasn't even necessary since the auburn haired man had already proven himself of being a big softy.

The man raised his eyebrows in doubt, or what seemed to be doubt at first at least. Appareantly the term "getting kicked out " hit this mans weak spot . "You know what? I think you're alright kid. Weird, but alright. Just don't try to play tough by playing out near death experiences..." He shook his head snickering under his breath. "I can take you with me for now, to make sure you won't rat me out to anybody and shit of course."

At this point it was clear to Kuro that this man couldn't hurt a fly, no matter how intimidating he looked or tried to be.

Not just that, but actually offering a stranger to stay in his house? He himself would most certainly have told such a person to fuck themselves, if he had been asked.

Other than that, the man didn't even seem to bother with the sudden switch in mood Kuro just went through, eventhough he basically went from fucking Kurt Cobain to a pure , little , pitifull Snowwhite in just a few minutes.

"Thank you so much..." a tiny smile appeared on the coalhaired mans face  . "I'm sorry but i didn't catch your name earlier." A wide grin spread across the taller mans face "Its Allen. You can call me Al though."


	3. Chapter 3

People say that toddlers are able to learn 3 languages at the same time without a problem, so thinking about it you are doing your kid a great favour teaching them at a very young age. Thats why language was never a problem to me.

The problem were the people. Some people in particular.

I don't know what it was exactly, whether I was just being a paranoid kid or not , but fact was that talking to strangers or potential new friends was really really hard to me as a child. 

We left Japan when i was 9. We lived in a small village near the east coast, and my mother and I weren't familiar with the city life, unlike my dad who worked in Tokyo. My father was finally given a chance to work in the USA. "Faith has spoken", he said. I remember him working long and hard for this, he was trying really hard to get a promotion, often working overtime , so when I first found out that he got what he was working up to, I was happy...

At least until I found out that my parents weren't teaching me english at a young age just to improve my language skills.

The worst thing was probably saying goodbye to my first grade friends while trying to explain to them that , as my father said , "I'm sorry but i fear that it's very unlikely that we're going to return anytime soon". My father didn't fear missing anything, at least it seemed that way.

He kept telling us about the "American Dream" , the many lights you can see in the evening when you look out of your window, and of course the new and fresh wind we all needed... in his opinion at least. When we arrived, not only my father but my mother, who was sceptical of this whole thing herself, aswell were stunned by the villa that they'd soon call their home.

To be honest, i was too. A big garden was surrounding the entire building which was protected by a brown wooden fence, the 2 story tall house a soft blue shade. This was the house i would be spending my childhood, my teenager years, and my last year. When i saw the building I quickly changed my pessimistic look on the whole moving, i was actually starting to look forward to finding new friends, planting fruit in the garden or just enjoying the city life.

I did.

The first 3 years at least. Even if I wasn't able to make that many friends at school, i wasn't hated or bullied or anything. I was existing , like everyone else, next to everybody else. It was alright , really.

The thing that started to really bother me the older I got, was my fathers weird obsession with exploring various other cultures, but his bad habit was forcing his interests onto others.

Of course, everyone has his bad habits, without a doubt, but his obsessions extended to an extreme. It was starting quite harmlessly with him just trying out new recipes , it then went on with him being just extremly enthuisiasic about politics and elections, and then he found his interest in religion.

I was 12 when he first took me to church.

* * *

 His Apartment was exactly like Kuro imagined. The moment the taller man turned the key and pushed the door open, a scent of ash was filling his entire nose.

The interior was almost completly held in a weird brownish tone only old people usually use to decorate, the blinds were down, only letting stray strands of the evening suns light in. A big sofa was set up in the middle of the living room, along with dozens of pizza and asia noodle cartons on and around it.

Kuro was left speechless, obviously not in a positive way, he was speechless as he had never seen such a messy place in person.

"I have no words, and to be honest, i'd prefer to not even try to explain how i feel about this place." , Kuro mumbled as he was still trying to comprehend the interior design of the place he'd stay at.

"Fair enough." A faint blush hit Allens cheeks as he was realizing that a normal persons home most likely didn't look or smell like this, but it still wasn't embarassing enough for him to actually start cleaning up his old moldy pizza leftovers.

Eager to change the topic, Allen decided that small talk was the way to go. "Where are you from?" , he asked the other man. "Not from here." Kuro claimed.  
"Don't you have any bag full of stuff you need or..?" Allen wondered, to which the other one just responded with   
"No."

The entire room was slowly starting to fill up with an uncomfortable silence. Wow. Seems like we got a real talkative one here."You know, you don't have to act all mysterious and shit ... I already got it." Allen added slightly annoyed.

The smaller man started to take a look around the apartment . The kitchen was small and looked like it hadn't been used in years as the table was covered in a thick layer of dust , yet the sink was full with dirty plates , and as he took an even closer look, he realized that some cloth was stuck inbetween the many plates and forks. Kuro pulled out the black piece of fabric, only to realize that those were in fact a pair of boxershorts. "I feel like maybe you yourself could use a little bit of mystery or secrecy..." , the darkhaired man suggested as he dropped the dirty underwear to the ground.

Allen decided not to comment on that. As Kuro was still busy exploring the house while trying not to throw up at the same time, the other man went to his room where he took an old mustardyellow backpack with him which he quickly flinged onto his shoulders. "Don't look through my drawers . Other than that, do whatever the fuck you want , I'll be back late.", Allen announced. "I don't have any money here so trying to steal is pointless." , by saying that, he walked through the door and simply left, leaving a complete stranger alone in his Dump of a house.

Feeling strongly uncomfortable being alone in this mess, Kuro started to collect trash of the ground, trying not to drown in the moldy smell coming from it.

He only talked about not being allowed to touch the drawers , right?


	4. The question of guilt

_Our household had always been a mens household._

_It had always been that way._

_There was my papa, my dad, my brother and I._

_My parents adopted me when i was very young, around 3 maybe. I don't remember it myself but they never tried to hide that fact from me, or that my brother was not._

_I never felt like my parents loved me less than him, they truly did love us both equally._

_I had never been abused by my parents in any way. I never had any big problems with being adopted. I had never been angry for long after we had our classic family fights. I still don't blame my fathers working long and hard, sometimes not having enough time for me and my brother ._

_They loved me and knowing that was enough. I don't blame them for that time they went to the cinema and called the babysitter to look after me. I don't blame Matt for not being there that one time because he wanted to stay at his best friends house so badly. It was horrible watching my parents guilttrip themselves for years and years after all this happened, they were innocent after all. Papa couldn't see what the future was bringing and neither could dad._

_How could they have known?_

* * *

 

_It was already dark outside, yet no single star was to be seen in the sky._

_One single man was walking down the unusually empty streets, accompanied by the soft songs of the late evenings cicadas and the weak light the city lamp posts were offering._

_With his rucksack casually hanging over his shoulder and his jacket around his waist he made his way to the place he feared the most, his own personal well of nightmare fuel._

_As the auburn haired man turned left and jumped over a 5 foot tall overgrown hedge that was formerly pointing the way, a small "thud" was heard coming from his brightly coloured rucksack._

_He was anxious, as always, but theoretically he had nothing to fear today as he had sold every single gram and pill that he was ordered to sell._

_He had done what was expected from him, and he was proud. The pride was enough to fuel his confidence and convince him to take the shortcut through the thornbushes, he was proud enough to not care about the few cuts he endured walking through the bushes._

_Most pride and confidence vanished down an imaginary drain when he finally arrived though._

_No matter how often he had seen this place already, it was still sending down chills down his spine. It was a rather big building, an abandoned factory it seemed._

_It wasn't that horribly run down , really, it was just the whole scenery that made this place seem like a disney villains hideout, it had this whole "cabin in the woods" feeling._

_Few bodyguards were lingering around the building, monitoring the entire property, but as they knew Allen already, they left out the whole "asking stupid questions about ones identity" thing when they saw him ,and just straight up went on to the clichéed frisking before letting him in._

_The building was almost fully empty, the only things that could be seen were glasshards decorating the ground, graffitis on the grey concrete walls , and a desktable in the buildings back, which was cornered by multiple men._

_Judging by the laughter coming from the people in the back of the room, it seemed as if the boss was in a good mood, which immediatly made the scared mans body lose some tension as he went on to make his way to the ebony wooden desk._

_Avoiding all eyecontact on his way, he took off the rucksack from his shoulder, immediatly placing it onto the table upon arrival. His heart was racing, his arms sweating._

_He could only hear the zipper opening and the paper crinkling quietly as he was looking down during the entire process, watching his shoes, as he feared every eyecontact he had to endure with his boss._

_Allen immediately flinched as the soft voice filled the room and echoed down the hall . "You did well. I'm proud" the voice was murmuring._

_Allens cheeks were hot, his throat dry, leaving him unable to say anything. The boss was used to this already though. She found that Allens behaviour was actually rather amusing._

_She stood up from the chair behind the desk, and gave the anxious mans head a  soft pat, resulting in him flinching yet a second time. "I'm satisfied. So whats your decision then?"_ _An evil grin creeped over the womans face as she cooed that._

_She opened a black handbag, first pulling out a bundle of dollars held together by a pink scrunchie, immediatly followed by another bundle that looked as if it was only around one fourth of the previous one, which she then dropped in some fishy looking paper bag._

_Allen broke out in cold sweat, his eyes now wandering from the bundle to the bag._

_The bundle._

_The bag._

_The bundle._

_Bag._

_Bundle._

_Bag._

_Bag._

_Bag._

_Bag._

_A dry gulp was heard when the tall mans trembling hand reached to take the bag._

_A sweet little giggle shortly followed, filling the room._

_"Good choice."_


End file.
